Rainald Goetz writes in his legendary first novel, which remains vibrant (published in 1983), about psychiatry and a hero of our times. How much pain does madness inflict on the mad? How difficult is it to work as a doctor in a psychiatric clinic? What is life like? Does it really have to be so torn and tattered? I recognized nothing. Released from the institution, I walked every evening towards the subway shaft, without looking. Had I ever smelled spring? Shaken by the journey, I reached my room, and nothing was as it used to be. Without resistance, I moved among the beer cans, bottles, newspapers, and clothes on the floor, aimlessly searching. The huge white sheets on the walls, behind the sheets the shelves, on the shelves the books, covered. Had I read? Had I ever opened a book and heard anything other than this droning?.